Sakura's dreams
Sakura's mind loved to wander.
Before, she would think of Sasuke and his pretty ways, his pearly skin, his white teeth, his long fingers that held his kunai with deft poise. His sharp accuracy during drills that bled into every one of his movements, legacy of a clan, upholding customs that no longer existed.
She'd imagine him slipping into her room late at night, while the moonlit sliver of light ran from the window. And he'd breathe in that way of his, calm, composed.
Sometimes she'd close her eyes and let her mind wander further. It was almost as if she could hear his breathing. In, and out. As her mind drifted into bottomless sleep.
Although, ever since he'd left the village, the events had replayed in a loop in her head. Sakura's fantasies had morphed into a different sort. Daydreams she used to enjoy, of eating out with Sasuke or training together on missions had given place to almost exclusively what-ifs and replays of that night.
When those thoughts came to mind, she'd always try to push them back.
Well. She'd never admit it, but, sometimes, at night, when no one was listening in to the fizzle of her heart, she allowed herself to give in to the longing, her tricked mind believing that anything could come true. Nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He'd come back to them, to her.
---
He was here before her, yet his breathing was not calm.
In her room, the window had shattered into a thousand pieces. Yet there had been no sound, only silence, the wind, his breathing. He was there before her, his head hung low.
She called out to him, still drowsy with sleep. "Sasuke-kun?" Still not quite believing. Why was he here in her room? Hadn't he left Konoha? Wasn't Naruto after him? Had they succeeded after all?
Her thoughts whirled around in her head. She raised her voice, panicked, and called his name again. When his face tilted to face her, it was twisted in an ugly grimace. Tears dripping down his cheeks.
Her body moved on its own. In an instant, she had side-stepped beside him. A second of hesitation, before her arms wrapped around his head, pushing all of her doubts aside. Her hands were on his neck, and they were freezing cold. She kept her hands steady, tried not to move, not to be overbearing, although she couldn't help clinging on to him.
His sobs raked through her like iced water. She could feel him so closely, her heart beating loudly against him, as his body shook in agony.
She wouldn't let him go. Never again. "What's wrong?" He was slowly shifting his weight on her, leaning his head forward on her chest. As if⦠returning the embrace?
Calm down, she told herself. The feeling of him leaning onto her was⦠foreign, to say the least.
The night was dead silent around them. She peered out the window, where the glass had shattered, and listened to the wind. Where had Sasuke-kun come from? Where were the others? Questions were spinning in her head again, yet she didn't have the strength to ask and be denied; she could only hold on, tightly, until he would decide to let go.
It was all so strange. The boy she loved and knew, crying into her arms, in the dead of night.
Worry dripped into her bones, like a sinuous poison worming its way in. She couldn't shake the feeling that the Sasuke-kun she knew had not turned back, would not come back. Nothing made sense. He was gone, yet he was here.
Why?
The boy she loved was broken beyond repair. She knew this -- yet she had kept loving him.
Had he realized his mistake? Sakura wanted to bite her inside cheek, hard, to see if this was all real. Does it even matter? whispered a small voice inside her. At any rate, he wasn't moving. He wasn't saying anything, either, which was not unusual for him. She realized, numb, that he had stopped crying.
Their breathing sounded together. Empty, hollow.
Maybe all she had wanted, after all, was to be needed.
